Nightmare
by TheFoxPack
Summary: Hisana wakes to a reality worse than her nightmares.


**A/n:** shout to Mr. Wolf. We own nothing

**Prompt: ****Horror: (Hisana) **She awoke at peace. Fear flooded her as a tear slip from his closed eyes.

* * *

Hisana looked around wildly to see what was going on despite the darkness of the room, dread began to creep in as a tear slipped from his closed eyes.

Byakuya reached out to grab her hand, surreptitiously flicking away the tear.

"You were dreaming," he stated.

Dreaming? She thought to herself. There was no way that was just a dream. "It...it felt so real. I was terrified." Hisana tensed up as tears threatened to fall. Byakuya's words not offering much comfort to her.

He said nothing, rubbing her shoulders. With her illness came fever, with fever came intense dreams, occasionally to the point of hallucination. Hisana buried her face in his robe sniffling and shaking. He held her tight, blinking back his own tears.

"Please, Byakuya. You see what happens when I sleep, but none of the healers have found anything that can help me. Look at me! I'm just wilting away day after day! " Byakuya hugged Hisana as she began sobbing uncontrollably.

"I'll find something," he promised even though he'd already pursued every possible remedy. He'd try again, pay more, look harder. He'd find _something. _He stroked her hair, hating himself for the failure, hating that he could do nothing to help her but keep searching. He kept his breathing steady and slow, his voice controlled hoping it would calm her.

"I'm so sorry, Byakuya. I've ruined everything. I should be taking care of you, not constantly worrying you or keeping you from sleeping in peace. I've failed as your wife," she truly felt like a failure for the pain her illness was inflicting on him.

He shook his head, "Don't talk like that. I love you."

He felt her trembling as she struggled to breathe through the tears.

"Easy now, or you'll star-" he was cut off by a wet, hacking cough. That one had sounded agonizing. He tried to see her face, even as she pulled away with her hand over her mouth.

But that didn't hide the trickles of red on her chin or the horror in her eyes.

Byakuya wiped the blood away, whispering meaningless sentiments. Not his style but it was instinct and there was nothing meaningful left to say. He could hear the roughness in his own voice despite his best efforts and winced.

Damn it, he was supposed to be strong for her, not… he dragged in another breath, holding her close and wishing that he could trade places. It couldn't be worse than what he felt watching her. She was right. This illness was slowly claiming her day by day. Erasing one small part of the woman, he loved after another until one day there'd be nothing left. The fact that one day she wouldn't be here anymore hurt far more than any disgraceful defeat in battle.

"I'm sorry Byakuya-sama..." She whispered. "Sorry, I'm such a disappointment."

"Hisana..." He croaked out. "You have nothing to apologize for you could never disappoint me."

She caught the tightness in his voice, the rawness and shivered despite her own pain. Sobs racked her at the pain she was causing him and after he'd done so much for her. The sobs turned into another coughing fit, coating his robe with blood before she could turn away.

Byakuya watched helplessly as his love suffered. Nothing compared to witnessing the life drain out of Hisana as her body became more and more frail with each passing day. The bloody evidence of her deteriorating condition a reminder that all hope was dwindling down to nothing.

The metallic scent of blood filled their room. Byakuya tried to hold it together as he looked out the window. Light was just beginning to appear on the horizon, and he could see buds on the trees.

The plum blossoms would bloom any day now.

Hisana looked up at him, simultaneously gratified and aggrieved to see tears in her stoic lord's eyes.

"Milord?" she gasped. She felt conflicted, but she was dying and in love. Her tact dissolved under the combined force of those facts.

Byakuya brushed the tears away and forced himself to smile at the woman he loved, wasting away in his arms.

"It'll be ok," he whispered, an empty sentiment. They both knew it was not going to be.

But he would be strong for her. He would be the pillar of support she needed, right until the very end, even if it killed him.

She clung to him, burying herself in his warm embrace, trying to warm up her cold body.

"What did I..." she began, pausing, swallowing, trying not to cry again. "What did I do right to deserve you?" she whispered.

"Everything," he whispered.

"I'm sc-scared," she sobbed. He squeezed her as tight as he dared, trying not to cause her more pain.

"Anyone would be."

She reached up to put her hand on his cheek, feeling the residual dampness, "That's the sc-scary P-part."

Byakuya had lost every semblance of his stoic facade as he held his dying wife. Casting about for a less traumatic subject, he remembered the buds on the plum trees. "Dearest, the plum blossoms will be opening soon. Maybe they'll bloom today."

Hisana smiled, but another cough wracked her small frame. There was no blood this time, but it sounded painful and it was several moments before she could breathe properly again.

"I h..." she gasped trying to get a full breath. Failed. "Hope so." she continued weakly, wheezing" "I'd like to see...them one last...time."

She tried for another breath and smothered a cough, "One last ...walk through the...garden." She smiled up at him. His face was impassive but tear-streaked. Her smile faltered but she kept it pasted on for his sake. Tears from a stone. So like him. That hurt more than the illness.

Xxx

He choked back a sob and drew ragged, painful breaths, his eyes closed. After fighting valiantly for a year and a half Hisana was gone, and with her half of him seemed to be missing as well. His hand held hers gently out of habit, couldn't hurt her, never mind that she could no longer feel it. His other hand was fisted against the wooden floor. It was taking all that remained of his self-control not to punch the shit out of it, screaming in rage and despair.

He swallowed hard and opened his eyes. It was such a cliché but, her pale, frail body really did look like it was asleep, even as her hand grew cold in his. He blinked back the shameful tears that had formed and swallowed again trying to breathe evenly, clearing his mind.

"Excuse me Kuchiki-sama," a voice said. He looked up to see two young men from the funeral home.

"Yes?" he asked.

"We came to recover the b-body," the young man said nervously. Damn, they'd arrived quickly.

"Of course, arigato," he said steadily, standing. He watched as they gathered her body, touched by their gentleness and reverence. Feeling his eyes burn he walked away to open the door for them, conveniently turning his back on them as he did so. He continued to watch as they carried her out, needing to, though he couldn't have explained why. He followed them to the carriage and paid.

"Arigato Kuchiki-sama," the man said.

"Arigato," he replied. He watched the carriage leave the grounds, before walking dazed to their quarters,_ his_ quarters. Locking the door he collapsed onto the bed they'd shared. When they'd been forced to accept that his beloved wife wouldn't survive he'd decided that when the time came he'd allow himself one day to grieve. He placed a hand over his face and lay on the bed they'd once shared his body shaking with sobs.

Xxx

He woke the next morning, still exhausted and reached over to wrap his arm around Hisana only to grasp air. He froze, breath caught in his throat, feeling like he was drowning as the reality of yesterday slammed into him. His hands fisted on the blankets, panting through clenched teeth as he fought for composure. What coherent thought he had formed itself into a mantra: Hisana's dead, fuck. You cannot change this. You have to get ready for work, MOVE.

As it repeated his thoughts obtained some semblance of order. Laying back he wiped his eyes taking a few calming breaths. He dressed for work, went to the gardens and spent a few minutes meditating as best he could. He checked the time, he had an hour before he had to be in and there was no way he was going to be late. He was never late and he did not wish to answer questions, particularly from commoners who wouldn't be aware of the circumstances. He ran through sword forms for the rest of his free time, active meditation seeking the right frame of mind for work.

He flash-stepped to the barracks arriving at his usual time. The day progressed normally outside of some nobles and a few commoners who happened to know, offering condolences which he calmly accepted with a nod and thank you. Komararu-taichou had tried to be comforting while he'd tried to end the conversation as quickly as possible without overstepping his position as vice-captain. Kyoraku-taichou had put a hand on his shoulder which he found displeasingly familiar but didn't try to engage in conversation for which he was deeply grateful. The day didn't go badly at all, it was almost pleasantly distracting with a quick fight with the third squad against some encroaching hollows to cap it off.

He was walking back to the barracks for once instead of flash stepping and it was one of the worst mistakes he'd ever made.

"Ooohhh Byakuya-fukutaichou, I just heard. I'm _so_ sorry for your loss," Gin said. His ever-present smile was gone but, faux sympathy dripped from every pore.

"I accept your condolences," he said coldly.

"Remember I'm here for you as a _captain_," he always had to rub in that'd he'd made captain first. "If you ever want to talk or need an *ahem* shoulder to cry on… We all know how much you loved her," he said 'loved' like it was something shameful. Byakuya seriously contemplated decapitating him but, the man was a captain, he didn't have the power and it would be highly insubordinate besides.

"Your offer is noted however, I'm fine," he replied through gritted teeth.

"Sure you are, _brave _little Iceprince," Gin said affably. Byakuya glanced at him, his jaw was tight and though he was trying not to show it, his rage that Byakuya hadn't risen to the bait was palpable.

"If there's nothing further," he said.

"Not particularly fukutaichou," he replied. Byakuya flash stepped back to the barracks, allowing himself a bitter smirk once he was going too fast for anyone to see.

In the months that followed he found that people had started calling him Iceprince behind his back. He knew full well that Gin had started it, his petty little revenge: a permanent reminder of the worst day of his life.


End file.
